


The Way You Move Me, It’s Crazy

by theshipsfirstmate



Series: You Are the Best Thing [2]
Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingerfucking, Grinding, Simultaneous Orgasm, literally the smuttiest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 03:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12289857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipsfirstmate/pseuds/theshipsfirstmate
Summary: A prequel story/missing scene from "Believe Me, You Don’t Even Have to Try" (but they can both stand alone): Bawson’s first “real” fight – during the All-Star break of Mike’s last MLB season – and the fireworks that follow."She doesn’t even know what she’s asked for, until he starts giving it to her."





	The Way You Move Me, It’s Crazy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lerayon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lerayon/gifts).



_#THINGSTHATARELERAYONSFAULT. OK so this is a few days (and also months) late, and that’s not really[@lerayon](https://tmblr.co/mos6epkvm9ttR3DW1PVO8iQ)’s fault. But it is also by far the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, and that DEF is._

_Title, once again, from “[You Are the Best Thing](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DvJ3xTjvj9tw&t=ZmYyODhhZDk4ZTEwMmEwZjNlYTQzYzFiZWFlNGE3MTc5ZjA0NDA3NyxoT3E0NkI0Mw%3D%3D&b=t%3AiAw4tJIAalN1OvhWtUFPsQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Ftheshipsfirstmate.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F166138127254%2Fpitch-fic-the-way-you-move-me-its-crazy&m=1)” by Ray LaMontagne._

**The Way You Move Me, It’s Crazy (AO3)**

Their first “real” fight comes at the All-Star break of Mike’s last MLB season. She makes the team, and he doesn’t, but that’s not what it’s about. In fact, it’s barely a fight at all.

“Al knows.”

She’s taken a few steps back to let him into her hotel room, but hasn’t looked at him or touched him, he doesn’t even have his bearings before she drops it on him. Mike finds that the bombshell doesn’t rattle him as much as he expected, though he can tell by the cracks in Ginny’s voice that it’s doing plenty to mess with her.

He tries pushing past it, leaning in to kiss her cheek with a soft greeting, but she pulls away even from that, half watching him, half lost in her own thoughts. Shrugging off the awkward moment, he takes a split-second to wonder why standing a few feet away from her, in an strangely-empty but totally-private suite, feels so off. Other than her obvious panic, of course.

“Did you hear what I said? Al  _knows about us_.”

She still won’t meet his eyes, pulling on the sleeve of one his sweatshirts that hangs too big on her and is only zipped up about halfway. If Mike were a gambling man, he’d bet there’s nothing under it, and the thought makes his whole body stiffen. But he has to focus.

Truth be told, he knew something was up when he had to come and find her tonight. Most nights they don’t waste much time hooking back up after going their separate ways at the ballpark – pun absolutely intended. Recently, they’ve started to get lazy, bumming around the players’ lot until they’re basically the last two left, and then shamelessly leaving together in his car.

They keep almost getting caught  – an errant teammate will walk past when she’s got her lips pressed to his neck and a hand wandering across the center console, or headlights will illuminate the passenger seat just as he’s reaching over to tug at her sports bra – but it’s like they don’t care enough to stop. Or maybe they can’t. Mike’s certain that must mean something, though he has hasn’t yet worked up the courage to ask.

But tonight, he had to come and find her. And now he knows why.

It occurs to him at that moment, what it is exactly that feels so off about her hotel room: It’s in practically pristine condition. Ginny is  _not_  neat, Mike smiles to himself. She’s a sheet-stealing, clothes-dropping, coaster-neglecting nightmare – but none of her mess is here. At his place, though, the blankets on the bed are still rucked up from this morning, and there’s a ring on the glass top of the nightstand on her side that keeps coming back no matter how many times he wipes it away.

I mean, she’s wearing his  _sweatshirt_ , for god’s sake, and there’s a pair of his basketball shorts – the pair he had been looking for this morning, in fact – crumpled up by the bathroom door. Something about that socks him right in the gut.

He  _loves_  her, so fucking much. They haven’t said it out loud, yet, but every time it rushes over him like this, it feels like he’s known it forever. Is she really worried about Al, or is it something more that has her so shaken? Is this feeling – this overwhelming, effervescent swell in his chest that feels a little like drowning, but up – is this what she’s realized?

Mike knows he has to tread so,  _so_  carefully here, the panic on Ginny’s face has him nearly tongue-tied already. It’s not the first time she’s freaked out on him, but it might be the big one. He wants to hold her, but it’s not the time. Not yet.

So he settles for telling her the truth. “Yeah, Gin–”

When he says her name, she finally meets his eyes and his chest loosens against his better instincts. “People know. I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure we’re just counting our lucky days until it’s out there.”

She actually sputters, and it’s so fucking adorable he has to stop himself from grinning at her. “Seriously, p-people know? Plural? About us?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” Some part of Mike has known this was coming sooner than later. How could it not? He can see it on his own face when he looks in the mirror, and he’s not exactly what you’d call perceptive when it comes to those things. “Blip knows, so Evelyn definitely knows. Tommy and Sonny know. Amelia knows, Eliot knows, oh, and Buck knows, I think? And now, Al.”

He doesn’t even bother asking her how the skipper found out. That one’s probably on him, too. “So yeah, people know.”

If it’s possible for Ginny’s eyes to go wider, they do. “ _Amelia_  knows?” Mike’s pretty sure that Blip and Evelyn were an unspoken certainty, but he’s still surprised that it’s this one she keys in on first.

“You were the one who told me that she knew!” he insists. They’ve had a few very-near-misses with her agent, including but not limited to the night he was fucking Ginny up against her hotel door, dress rucked up around her waist, when Amelia knocked on the other side to pick her up for a red carpet. It was just so hard to worry about consequences in a moment like that.

“I thought she might suspect something.” Ginny’s gaze is still far off, like she’s running through the fallout line-by-line with an imaginary calculator. Mike just wants her to look at him again.

“Well Eliot definitely knows, so even if she didn’t then, she does now.” If he’s going for honesty, he figures, he might as well go all-in. “It’s a real telephone game.”  


“What?”

“You know, the telephone game.” He side-steps the embarrassing story of how Amelia’s assistant came to find out about his… affections for Ginny, because there’s also some honesty that can just wait. “Wait, fuck, are you too young for the telephone game?”

“Mike!” She’s quicker than him, though. And tonight she’s louder, too.  _“Why aren’t you freaking out right now?!”_

“Because, I’m gonna retire at the end of this season.” He shrugs, and grins at her stubborn pout. They’ve talked about this at least, though she pretend-tries to convince him to change his mind every few days or so. “And then, what does it matter? Everyone can know, no big deal. We should just go public.”

“You wanna…go public?” There’s a hint of guilt that hits him at her sudden incredulity, like he’s done something wrong just then by saying that he wants the world to know how blissfully happy his life has been since the first night she kissed him. “Just like that?”

“Yeah, might as well. I mean, we can wait until after the season if you want…”

The confused look on Ginny’s face suddenly goes steely and Mike’s stomach drops. “You’re very casual about this.”

Shit.

“Gin, I’m not casual. I’m just not worried.” Her eyes narrow, it’s the wrong answer again. He knew this was big, honestly. He just thought it was good-big, not bad-big.

“I mean, you get that when this comes out –  _if_  this comes out – it’s going to be like, one of the defining moments of my career, right?” He  _had_  thought about it, truly, but he hadn’t thought about it like that. “It’s going to be right at the top of the trading card. Maybe the fantasy nerds can make a new category for me, WHIP-over-B.F., or batters fu-.”

“Gin-” She doesn’t bother letting him finish, and it’s OK because that might be all he can think to say.

“This is what entire press conferences will become about.” She lays the facts out like he’s small and slow, and honestly he probably deserves it. “Any time I do a sit-down, they’ll ask me questions about you, about  _us_. There will be gossip and speculation about how long and how often and when and why and – god forbid – where.”

His nostrils flare and he wonders if she’s also thinking about last week, when they snuck a quickie in the team shower after a thunderstorm sent everyone home early from practice.

But her face goes sad instead, and his palms itch again with with the need to reach out. Not yet.

There will be analysis of everything from locker room antics to post-game celebrations, he understands. People will review the tape of her first few seasons with a different eye, studying the two of them, their body language, their efforts to hide it. And they’ll find what they’re looking for, Mike’s certain of that. This is going to be a  _thing_ , and he’s an idiot for not preparing himself better.

“I’m sorry.” It’s the only other thing he can think to say. “I shouldn’t have…”

Ginny just folds her arms and shakes her head. He’s learning that means she’s tired of talking, but still not satisfied. He’s also learning how to push at her, how to keep her coming at him when she’s ready to go cold and quiet.

“I’m not taking this lightly,” he promises. “I just – I’ve seen first-hand how hard you worked for what you have. Sometimes, it doesn’t even occur to me that people could think anything less. But you’re right, of course you’re right. We can wait, or – whatever you want.”

It’s a mess, but it’s by far the most cohesive conversation they’ve had about their relationship to date. Mike acknowledges it with another step forward, and this time, Ginny lets him, holding his gaze for a long, heated moment that almost immediately has him ready to combust. The more he learns of her, the more he’s certain she’ll never stop surprising him.

“I’d still  _do_  it, if you’re sure you want to.” Her voice is low and certain, until it isn’t. “I mean, if you’re really serious about…”

Mike’s gut freezes over at the implication. Shit, shit,  _shit_. “Gin, I-” He gapes at her like a goddamn goldfish and she takes his floundering as a sign to go back on the defensive.

“I’m the first female pitcher in the history of Major League Baseball, Mike. They’ve been  _waiting_  for something like this.” She sighs as he begs his stupid mouth to put some goddamn words together because he’s already blowing it. “They’ll be ready to tear me to pieces, and if you’re not–”

“ _Ginny_.” They both gasp when he interrupts forcefully with the first word he can think of, grabbing both of her hands in his. Her eyes flicker down, and his follow to see the cuffs of his sweatshirt meeting his wrist where their fingers are intertwined beneath the soft cotton. Some primal part of his brain whispers to him that she should only wear his clothes, as much as humanly possible. “You really think I’m not serious about this?”

“It’s hard to tell sometimes,” she admits softly. “It’s all late nights and sneaking around, and it’s  _good_  but you’re so… quiet.”

 _Oh_. He takes her face in his hands so she’ll look at him – suddenly, somehow, they’re pressed right up against each other – and her cheeks are hot beneath his palms. He practically goes molten when her eyes meet his and she confesses, “Sometimes I want to hear you–”

Mike cuts her off, pressing his mouth to hers hungrily and backing her up against the nearest wall. “Baby, shit, I’m sorry.”

She gasps but follows easily, banding her arms around his back and sliding one of her legs up the back of his calves on what feels like instinct. His hands slide underneath his sweatshirt to skim the waistline of her skin-tight shorts, lips pressing to hers like punctuation between his penitent pleas. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been an idiot, I’m – I’ve been trying like hell not to scare you off.”

He brushes his lower lip across her own, hoping Ginny can feel the abused skin where he sinks his teeth in every time he slides inside her, to keep himself from doing something stupid like proposing. He hates that she’s noticed, though, and even more because it’s made her doubt him.

Mike kisses her deep again, hands moving from one favorite part to the next, groaning primally when she pulls back to brush her lips to his ear. Her fingers tangle in his hair and pull it tight, until the groan turns into a whimper. “I’m not scared,” she whispers, tracing his hipbone before hooking her fingers into the waistband of his shorts. His hips buck so hard it slides her up the wall a few inches. “I wanna hear you.”

He’s pretty sure he’s died and gone to heaven. Ginny grinds a little on his thigh and he can feel how wet she already is, so he slides his hands between her ass and the wall and grips tight to make her do it again. Those shorts have got to go. “Ginny, goddamn,” he pants, tugging them down to her ankles and pressing his whole self against her as he rises. “I’ll tell you anything.”

“God, yes, Mike!” His hands get back to work until Ginny’s stammering around stuttered breaths, finally whispering against his lips: _“Talk to me.”_

* * *

She doesn’t even know what she’s asked for until he starts giving it to her.

“You want me to talk to you, baby?” Mike loves getting her up against a wall, and she’s practically dripping by the time he strips off her leggings and tugs at the zipper of his sweatshirt to find her naked inside. “You want me to answer your questions?”

Ginny sputters a syllable that might be an affirmative or his name when he steps one of his thick thighs back in between her legs. “Want me to tell you the real reason I don’t give a shit about going public?” He grinds her shamelessly against the wall until she’s up on her tiptoes and the only thing she can hear, over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, is his voice. “You wanna know that it’s because they’re the only rumors about myself that I’ve ever wanted to confirm?”

She nips at him, running a tongue along his lower lip until he pulls away to ravish her throat. She’s sliding slickly against his leg and it might be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so damn good.

Mike pulls his face back from her neck to press his forehead to hers and she tangles her fingers in his beard and tugs. He gives her one soft kiss and the moment feels slow and sweet, like honey. “Want me to tell you that I’m only OK stepping away from the team if I can still see your face every day?” Something in her chest tightens when he looks at her like that, but it’s drowned out by the sensation of his calloused fingers tracing up her stomach to toy with her nipples.

She gasps and he catches it on his lips. And,  _god_ , he just keeps talking and rolling his hips in a combination that makes her start to shudder. “Want to hear the truth? That the reason I’m not freaking out about retirement and legacies and career statistics is because I look at you, and for the first time I can see – so damn clearly – an actual future for myself?”

Her eyes snap open and it takes a moment to realize that they had drifted shut. Mike meets her gaze for a split-second that makes Ginny’s heart ache, and then he’s kissing his way back down her neck.

While he’s down there, something happens. It starts as an exhaled breath, but by the time it leaves Ginny’s lips, they’ve shaped it into words.  _“Love you.”_

It’s so soft she’s barely even sure she’s said it, maybe that’s why it hardly panics her at all. Maybe. Mike lifts his head up to look at her, but instinct gets the best of her and she doesn’t give him a chance to make it any more real, reaching around to grab at his ass and sliding her tongue against his in a long kiss.

Her other hand makes its way between them to brush her fingers up his rigid cock, because they’ve been doing his long enough now that she knows how he’ll give and give without taking any for himself. She jacks him a few times through the silky material of his shorts before Mike snatches her hand away, but it’s long enough to confirm her suspicion that he’s also going commando.

He groans deep – she feels it in her toes – and whirls her around like she weighs nothing, taking a seat at the edge of her made-up hotel bed and pulling her down on his lap.

“ _Jesus_ , Ginny, babe.” His lips press hot expletives into her skin and she’s starting to sweat, but shivers at the same time. It drags her against the swollen ridge of him beneath her bare center, and the same moan escapes both of their throats before he whispers again. “You wanna hear about how much better my life is” – he presses up with his hips and down with a white-knuckled grip on her waistline at the same time  – “since you  _came_  into it?”

“Oh my  _god_.” She rolls her eyes at at the way the corners of his mouth turn up wickedly, but then he shifts again and her pupils stay back for another split-second as pleasure shudders through her core. She can feel him, hot even through his shorts, and she grinds herself down against him, wantonly pressing a wet spot into the silky mesh. She pants across his lips – “Mike,  _shit_ …” – and he makes a noise that sounds like the starbursts erupting behind her eyes.

“Fuck yeah, baby, you wanna hear about that?” Ginny’s not the type to admit when she’s underestimated someone, especially when that someone is Mike, but if he asked her for the truth right now, she’s sure it would spill from her lips, along with a thousand other confessions. “Wanna hear how bad I want you, hear how I think about having you everywhere, all damn day?”

“ _Yessss_.” Ginny shivers at the memory of Mike grunting in her ear during their escapade in the team shower, letting the pounding water drown out a deluge of dirty daydreams about making her cum in all of his secret spots around the ballpark – the bullpen storage, the roof, the alcove on the ground level of the metal supply building in the outfield, the guest bedroom in the owner’s suite. When he laid out, in graphic detail, a fantasy about fucking her on home plate underneath the stadium lights, she came so hard she had a rounded bruise from the shower dial on her back for days.

She can still feel it a little, when he spins her around in his lap, tossing the sweatshirt to the ground alongside his own tee, and she pouts a little at not getting the full frontal view of his droolworthy chest. But she feels him rock-hard against her soon enough, when Mike’s arms band around from behind, hands cupping her breasts and tracing lower to where she’s grinding back against his cock. “Ginny,  _shit_. You wanna hear about how hard you make me?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” she pants as he slides his fingers inside, pornstar-perfect until she can’t resist teasing him in between half-full breaths. “And then I wanna hear what you plan to do about it.”

Mike doesn’t skip a beat, just brushes his thumb against her clit and uses his other hand to tweak at her nipples until she’s practically writhing.

“Yeah, you wanna hear how fucking good you feel inside, huh?” His pace is relentless almost immediately, alternating plunging strokes of his fingers with rapid rubs at her sensitive bud, but she’s so keyed up that it’s already working for her – and fast.

“Mike, oh, shit! Please, I’m gonna–” She tries to warn him, but he’s still talking, scraping his teeth down the shell of her ear and filling her thoughts with filth.

“You wanna know how wet you are?” He’s coiled around her, sweaty skin starting to slip as his muscular arms work her closer and closer to the edge. Ginny can’t tell which of them is panting, they’re pressed together so tightly.  “Can you hear it, baby? How tight and hot… I can’t fucking wait to slide inside you bare someda–”

She’s not quite ready, but that does it. Ginny comes hard around his fingers, letting loose with some graphic language of her own.

Mike’s free hand alternates between each of her nipples and his mouth latches on her neck, dropping a hot, wet kiss for every tremor that rattles through her. When she finally stills, she feels the corners of his mouth turn up, hears the wet sound of his lips slipping down to her shoulder blade.

“Ah shit, Gin.” His voice comes out like gravel, scraping its way down her front as his still-hard cock presses against her back. “Baby, now I’m gonna tell you fucking  _everything_.”

He turns her beneath him on the bed while she’s still shuddering and then he’s fully naked, rolling on a condom and back on top of her where he belongs. When he slides inside, she’s pretty sure they both feel it, that white-hot connection that sparks every time like it’s the first.

She goes from still-coming to nearly-coming again in no time, and now she’s the one who can’t stop talking, cursing his name and praising deities (or maybe the other way around), directing him to play with her clit and then her nipples, harder, fast,  _fuck right there…_

Ginny never thought it would be like this, but it is  _every time_  and she should have suspected. He fucks with the same focus and determination that he plays the game – like a goddamn champion. She may even tell him as much in the heat of the moment, running her mouth about how good he is – how big and hot and perfect – until his chest is practically swelling up with pride and he leans down to capture her mouth in a savage kiss.

Mike drops to his elbows then, hips rutting like a piston as her pleasure ramps up again and Ginny can tell he’s close too. She breaks the kiss to turn her head and takes a hold of his hand, linking their fingers and pressing her lips to each of his knuckles. That’s her one regret, in all of this, that he’ll never have a championship ring on these fingers.

She kisses one digit, then the next. The split-second before her lips touch down on his third knuckle, she looks up and meets his eyes as she realizes what it means.

Mike’s eyes go nearly black as he watches her press the kiss to his ring finger, and it’s like Ginny’s watching every drop of his carefully-held control drain from his body. There’s a moment’s pause, a calm before the storm, and then he’s grabbing at her other hand and pinning them both above her head as he pistons into her frantically, brushing her g-spot with every thrust.

“Fuck, Gin, I’m gonna –” He presses his mouth to hers, but it stays open as he huffs out unintelligible syllables of pleasure on the offbeat of their smacking hips.

“Yeah, Mike, _do it._ ” Even as he starts to fall apart, he has the presence of mind to reach between them and rub furiously at her clit until she’s right there with him and whining. “Come on babe, come for me. I want to hear you.”

“ _Ginny_!”

She feels him tense above her right before her own body goes rigid. And then they’re just pulsing together, grinding and shuddering. Someone whispers  _“love you”_  again, but Ginny can’t tell who.

“Shit.”

When she opens her eyes, they’re sprawled diagonally on top of her hotel bed, and his beard is tickling her breast – her giggle slips to a groan as he pulls out of her and ties off the condom.

When he’s back, with what must be the last of his strength, Mike drags them both over to the pillows, tugging the covers up around them as he curls in beside her. Ginny feels like she’s floating, even with his arm draped comfortably across her, and his lips resting heavy against her shoulder

“Okay so where did we land on telling people?” He grunts out a laugh in response – it rumbles through his chest to her – then takes a long pensive moment.

“There’s one other thing about me retiring that I want you to know before you decide anything.” Mike kisses her forehead, but his voice is serious and she cranes her neck to look at him. “I’ve got to make it a clean break.”

He must feel her body tense, because his eyes go wide and he starts sputtering. “No! Not – not from you. God, no. Just… no.”

“Ok, good.” She smiles, and she can tell by the way it tugs on the corners of her mouth that it’s a dopey one.

“But a clean break from the team. From the game too, maybe, for a bit.” He sighs. “I’ll be there watching whenever I can, cheering you guys on. I’ll be there for all your starts, if you want me to be.”

Ginny imagines catching his eyes in the stands and then turning to someone else at home plate and it makes her throat tighten up.

“But I don’t want to do anything special. I don’t want to travel with the team or sit in the dugout or come down to the locker room.” She just nods, willing herself to blink away the unwelcome tears that cloud her eyes. This is his decision, this is a small price to pay for him to be as happy as possible.

“I just think there needs to be clearly set boundaries, to start,” Mike continues, even though she’s already agreed with him, nodding more as she presses kisses to his bare chest. “I’ve got to find out where I stand, I’ve got to figure out…who I am now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” She doesn’t lift her head, but she can imagine the furrow between his brows, the one she finds adorable but also keeps trying to smooth away.

“Mike, I’m not going to fight you on this. It’s your career, you get to do things however you want.”

He sighs and goes quiet for a long moment, and Ginny wonders if he’s thinking about all the people whose needs he’s put before his own. She wants to see him then, so she turns and pushes herself up on her elbow, reaching with her other hand to scratch at his beard.

“As long as I’m included in those plans, of course.”

He just grins and a swarm of butterflies flutter in her stomach.  _Every time._ “Oh, I’m most definitely gonna do  _you_  however I want.”

Mike tugs her across his chest, running a hand down to cup her ass, and Ginny enjoys the light moment while it lingers. This is all she wants, even if it means convincing the world after she’s finished convincing him.

“You’re sure you’re OK with this?”

She rests her chin on one of his pecs and meets his eyes to reassure him – that’s when something happens again. She means to say, “We’ll figure it out,” but it almost comes out like, “I love you,” and she ends up with her lips pressed to his heart as a substitute for the truth she can’t quite tell him out loud yet.

“I’m just going to miss you, is all.”

Mike pulls her back up with a sleepy smile as his eyes start to drift closed. “I’m not going anywhere.” Ginny just answers with a kiss goodnight, because she doesn’t trust her words.

Later, after the lights are out and his breathing has slowed, she thinks she’s safe, but she swears his arms tighten around her when she whispers against his chest. “I know who you are.”

She’ll tell him someday soon, the whole truth, out loud. And then, together, they’ll tell the world.


End file.
